


A Cut Above the Rest

by Luka



Series: University AU [5]
Category: Primeval
Genre: Alternate Universe, Established Relationship, F/F, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-11
Updated: 2019-06-11
Packaged: 2020-04-24 14:59:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19175704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luka/pseuds/Luka
Summary: Claudia and Jenny have to deal with a new arrival causing chaos at the students' art show ...





	A Cut Above the Rest

**Author's Note:**

> Long ago and far away, Rain_sleet_snow created a university AU in Primeval fanfic where Lester is deputy vice-chancellor, Ryan the head of security, Lorraine an economics lecturer and Sarah an Egyptology PhD candidate. I jumped into her sandpit, and a load of stories followed. Our stories are in the same universe, but we've kind of developed our own plot (in that there is much plot) lines! This fic is the fifth I created in the AU universe - there are more stories to follow. If you want to read Rain_sleet_snow's stories, she has them on her AO3 account under the Smart People series tag. To avoid confusion, I'm going to name my series as University AU. Original, or what! The stories are gen ones in a slash universe.

James Lester leaned back in his chair and raised an elegant eyebrow. "I understand your concerns, Miss Brown, but I cannot interfere in the work of selection panels. You should take the matter up with Human Resources."

"That would be rather tricky, Mr Lester – Oliver Leek is now deputy head of HR."

Lester pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed heavily. "Mr Leek came highly recommended to us."

Claudia chose not to dignify that with a response, even though she could think of several, each more inappropriate than the previous one.

There was a long, glacial silence. Lester stared out over the bustling university square. Claudia examined her neatly-manicured nails and wondered idly if the new summer shade of duck-egg blue would suit them.

Eventually Lester said wearily: "If there's nothing else, Miss Brown …"

"Not for the moment, Mr Lester." She was careful not to slam the door, but she allowed it to spring back a little too firmly.

*~*~*~

"Putting that man in HR is like putting Herod in charge of the crèche!" Jenny was scandalised.

Claudia shrugged. "Considering the head of HR used to be a library assistant, he probably counts as over-qualified …"

"I thought she was on sick leave."

"She is. Her nerves. She's a martyr to them."

They both sighed. The head of HR was a sweet little mouse of a woman, terminally unsuited to her new career. The university had a habit of appointing ball-breakers as her number two. None of them ever lasted longer than a year, ground down by her teeth-rotting niceness to everyone, and the fact she would be off ill for at least nine months of their time at CMU. 

There was a theory going around the university that the only way to be sacked from CMU was to shag the vice-chancellor's dog on the ornamental lawns in front of the medical school. Mad Professor Cutter opined that the reason Leek hadn't been sacked was because the vice-chancellor's dog had more taste.

"So what are you going to do?" asked Jenny.

"Nothing I can do. Leek clearly has protectors in high places, judging by Lester's cryptic comment. I shall just log every incident and watch my back."

*~*~*~

Dean Kory K's pioneering plans for a hairdressing degree had been quietly shelved after the Big QA Scandal, as it had rapidly become known, which had resulted in the thoroughly unpleasant Dr Helen Cutter being appointed an external examiner – and thus putting her on a collision course with her ex-husband, Professor Nick Cutter. Leek had been shunted sideways, the faculty quality assurance person had been given the employability poisoned chalice – you could generate as many internships as you liked, but the idle little toerags of students would never go for them – and Helen Cutter was clinging onto her post by her fingertips. Claudia, with Jenny's pulling strings and calling in favours help, was planning to stamp hard on those fingertips.

Not only had irregularities been discovered in recruiting external examiners, a number of distinctly iffy courses had also passed the first stage of the validation process. Claudia, horrified at what had been done in her absence, rapidly vetoed the planned BAs in Pub Management, Hairdressing, Sheep-Shearing, and Home Brewing, along with an ill-advised MA in Writing Erotic Literature, dreamed up by the Eng Lit staff after an away-day where too much gin had been consumed. Claudia had let Kory K know that if he was that keen to start a hairdressing course, he'd be welcome to join the nearby further education college, which offered courses in plumbing, catering, interior design and the like. The chances of that were non-existent, given he'd be expected to do some work if he went there.

*~*~*~

Jenny rubbed her temples and pasted a smile on her face. At most universities, publicising the end of year art show would be a doddle. At CMU it required UN peacekeepers at the very least. Every year, one of the final year students from art and design would decide to showboat and call it art. And given the little dears used the show as a calling card for future careers, big names from the art world would often attend. 

Jenny still hadn't recovered from the previous year's incident where a machete buried blade-first in a heap of books had sent the straight-laced campus manager into hysterics – particularly when she'd found scary Niall Richards from engineering circling it with undue interest. Jenny had sent him away with a flea in his ear and the campus manager had stood over the student responsible for the exhibit until they'd dismantled it. There had been much muttering about repressing artistic freedom. Jenny simply suggested they address their concerns to the university health and safety manager. And given she was from Pontypool, completely mad and had worked as a trapeze artist in a circus for 15 years, no one was brave enough to try.

This year, Dean Kory K had ideas way above his station – and was flatly refusing to divulge what they might be. All he would say, with a smirk on his face that made Jenny want to slap him hard, was: "It's gonna make us the talking point of the art world, sweetheart. It's art from the heart which will speak to us all."

Jenny counted the cracks in the ceiling and wondered how soon she could open the bottle of brandy in her desk drawer that a colleague had brought back from France. She could always claim it was for medicinal purposes – she was sick of blithering idiots.

*~*~*~

Lester stood in front of the mirror and adjusted his tie minutely for at least the 16th time. Oddly enough he didn't feel in the least nervous.

Strong hands turned him around and Ryan re-tied his tie, then brushed a non-existent speck of dust from his lapel.

"You look good, James."

"Thank you," said Lester gravely, taking in his partner in a dark grey suit and blue tie which matched his eyes perfectly. "As do you …"

"Look, I don't have to come with you if you'd prefer me not to …"

"I'd like you to," said Lester without hesitation. They both knew that it was a big step, to be seen at an event as an item for the first time. But if you were going to make a statement, the art department end of year show was the time to do it, where weirdness was the order of the day and every other person was as gay as a daisy. And their relationship was rapidly becoming the worst-kept secret in the university.

Ryan touched Lester's cheek briefly. "Let's go and slay them."

"Given the incident with the machete last year, that's not the best comparison …"

Ryan's grin was like a cheeky schoolboy and made him look ten years younger. "Oh, I don't know. If it gets boring, I'm sure we can rely on Niall Richards from engineering for some entertainment. He probably relaxes by juggling knives, or persuades the lovely Jenny Lewis to take part in his knife-throwing act."

Lester let out a sudden bark of laughter. "Does Miss Lewis know he has a crush on her?"

"Good heavens, no. Miss Lewis is wedded to her job."

"Until I met you, Tom, I'd have said that was the way to be."

Ryan smiled, kissed Lester briefly on the forehead, then ushered them out of the house."

*~*~*~

"What. The. Fuck. Is. That?"

Claudia did a double-take. Jenny never swore. But she had to admit this particular sight was worthy of cussing. Except, Jenny now appeared to be struck dumb by the sight of Christine Johnson, the university registrar, sitting on a golden throne, surrounded by first year art students of both sexes who were clad in diaphanous slips which left little to the imagination. They were doing some sort of dance that was presumably supposed to be erotic, but instead looked like the mildly inebriated on the way home after a Friday night in one of the town's more notorious pubs.

"Could be worse," opined mad Professor Cutter, materialising with the dreamy Stephen Hart in tow. "Yon lassie might have taken her clothes off – and I'll wager she'd resemble a freshly-plucked chicken."

Claudia reached for a glass of wine from the trestle table and downed it in one, hoping it would erase that image from her mind. Sadly, it didn't.

Jenny opened her mouth, but whatever she was about to say was drowned out in a cacophony of noise from the second year sculpture students, clad in boilersuits and masks, who were hammering chunks of metal sheeting together. The door at the back of the gallery opened and in swept a motley procession – more students acting as percussionists as they danced attendance on a sedan chair in which sat a grey-haired man with an over-coiffed haircut to match Christine Johnson's.

"Who the fuck is that?" asked Claudia. But she had a nasty feeling she could guess. This was no doubt the legendary Joe Wilder, the hair sculptor who had sent Kory K into orgasmic ecstasy over his ability to wield a comb and pair of scissors.

Jenny passed her another glass of wine.

*~*~*~

"Laideeeeeees and gennlemen!" Kory K's American accent had stalled somewhere around Wolverhampton. And his white suit, wingtip shoes and trilby tipped at what he clearly thought was a jaunty angle made him look like a pimp. 

Someone behind Claudia made that observation. She spun around to look, but could only see Cutter and Stephen Hart. The accent hadn't been Scottish – but it was a rare event indeed for Stephen to pass judgement on anything in public. He caught her eye and quirked a dark eyebrow. Claudia choked back a giggle.

Kory was blathering on about what a great honour for the university it was to have Joe Wilder there, and that this modern-day god had chosen CMU's end of year show to launch his new hair-care range. A student swept a white sheet off a table to reveal rows of gaudy bottles. Next to Claudia, Jenny stiffened.

"What is it?" muttered Claudia.

"This isn't some commercial occasion. He should have asked permission."

"And would marketing have said yes?"

"They would not."

Claudia grinned. The head of marketing was probably the rudest woman in the university – a title for which she had a great deal of competition. But she knew her job inside out and would never have allowed such blatant free advertising on university premises.

Behind them, Cutter muttered something which had a lot of rs in and which sounded disparaging. Claudia looked round. Stephen grinned at her and translated: "Our god of hairdressing has apparently named his range after Greek gods and goddesses."

"That's terminally naff!"

"Explains the attendant cast," observed Stephen, who was positively garrulous tonight.

A gasp from the crowd drew Claudia's attention back to the proceedings. Wilder had stepped forward and was now waving a burning club around with gay abandon. From Kory's increasingly incoherent commentary, it seemed that he was going to light a large metal cauldron so he could pass the flame of creativity to the next generation of students. Claudia agreed thoroughly with Cutter's clearly-enunicated shout of "bollocks!" Instinctively, though, she looked around to see if the university's health and safety officer was there. Claudia winced at the thought of all the paperwork this escapade was going to generate for someone.

There was a sudden whoosh, followed by an ear-piercing scream. A sheet of flame had leapt into the air from the cauldron, sending staff, students and visitors scattering. Christine Johnson wasn't fast enough, though, and Claudia saw Tom Ryan grab a bottle of water from the cooler in the corner and rip the top off it, spraying the liquid over the screaming woman. Claudia, a qualified first aider, rushed to join him while Cutter and Stephen put out the cauldron with fire extinguishers. Jenny, with effortless authority, cleared the gallery of gawping bystanders.

Christine had clearly had a very lucky escape. The flames had singed her elaborate hairstyle, and she'd be drawing on eyebrows for a while. She was shocked and babbling, but otherwise appeared to be unhurt. Claudia decided it was better to be safe than sorry, and summoned the art department receptionist – the only sane person on the campus – to take Christine to A&E.

Lester, meanwhile, was laying down the law to a very subdued Kory. From what Claudia could hear, Wilder wouldn't be welcome on the premises again, and perhaps it was time for Kory to consider how his career might progress elsewhere.

"What the hell's been going on here? It smells like bonfire night." Lorraine had marched into the gallery with Sarah in her slipstream, and was staring around her with ill-concealed interest.

"Ah, you've missed the pyrotechnics," said Claudia. "What on earth kept you?"

Lorraine glared pointedly at Sarah, who was incapable of getting anywhere on time. Sarah looked sheepish and muttered about curling tongs and straightening irons and having to untrip the electrical system in the flat.

Ryan, Nick and Stephen joined them, clearly having bonded over their firefighting activities. They eyed the spread of food longingly. Jenny frowned, then shrugged, and passed around a plate of unidentified breaded snacks – a university catering staple. Lester glided over, quirked an eyebrow, then picked up a plate and began to fill it with sandwiches.

"Where's Miss Johnson?" asked Lester, handing the plate of food to Ryan.

"I examined her in my role as a qualified first aider. She should be fine, but I thought it was only right that a medical expert saw her," said Claudia.

"You didn't suggest Christine went to A&E on a Friday night, did you? The place will be overflowing with drunks." A trace of a smile played around Ryan's lips.

"Couldn't happen to a nicer person," said Claudia placidly, reaching for another canapé. It really would be an awful shame to waste all that food.


End file.
